Screams and Silence
by Pachamama9
Summary: While Bellatrix tortures Hermione, Ron goes mad trying to get to her. One-shot.


_A/N: Just my interpretation of what would have happened at Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix had Hermione._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

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Ron and Harry had only been down in the Malfoy's basement for a few moments before Hermione began to scream. As they were tied to each other back-to-back, Harry felt Ron flood with tension when he heard the sound. Ron curled in on himself a bit as Hermione began to sob, and that action tightened the ropes on Harry's end and lifted him up slightly off the ground. "Ron," Harry choked out, "don't—"

"No, no, please—" begged Hermione, and then another scream.

"Hermione!" Again, Ron reacted to the terrible sound, and Harry's bindings constricted around his chest and lifted him slightly off of the ground. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione!"

"Hold still, Ron," pleaded Luna in her airy voice. She had almost gotten completely through the ropes tying them together.

Harry managed to fill his chest with air again and told his best friend that no, there was nothing they could do for her, that they just had to wait—

"You're lying, you filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix's voice, thick with malice, stabbed the air. "You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

Hermione's screams bounced off the walls.

Ron screamed her name so loudly that Harry can feel his voice vibrate through him. "Hermione!"

"Done!" says Luna cheerily, and finally Harry is free.

Ron threw himself up against the wall as if he could break it, but, of course, nothing happened. "Hermione!" he wailed, and then he was punching the wall with all of his strength.

"Mudblood!" Bellatrix growled, her sadistic tone obvious. "What else did you take? What else have you got?"

"We didn't—" Hermione stammered. Her voice faded, her words becoming quieter as her fear became more obvious. Harry didn't know how it was possible for her to lie under these circumstances, but he was so grateful. Ron, on the other hand, was not. "We didn't take anything—" Ron was trying to break the door down now, grunting with every impact; it was surely going to leave bruises all over his right side.

"Liar!" roared the angry Lestrange woman, and this time, when Hermione screamed, something was different. The horrible screams caused by the Cruciatus Curse usually sound similar (Harry himself had both felt it and inflicted it), but this... It's— "Tell me the truth or I swear I shall run you through with this knife!"

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione!" cried Ron.

The knife... No wonder Hermione's screams had intensified so... "Please, please, it's only a copy, it's just a—"

"Filthy Mudblood!" and then a bloodcurdling scream. "What else did you steal from me?"

"We didn't take—we didn't take anything, please, please—" She was crying so hard that she was hiccuping and her word were nearly unintelligible. Just a little more and she would break, he knew it."Please, no, please, I swear, we didn't—" Harry only knew what she was saying because she was his best friend, and he had known her for seven years. Bellatrix, however, could not translate her wet sobs.

"What else did you take, Mudblood?" More screaming from Hermione and a growl from Bellatrix. "What else?" Hermione was too busy crying and pleading for mercy to reply. "Answer me!" An earsplitting shriek from Hermione that made Harry's insides churn and caused Ron to claw in vain at the walls, sobbing. "CRUCIO!"

The screams that came from Hermione now were the most terrible Harry had heard yet.

When Hermione, all of a sudden, went quiet, Ron went nuts. "Her—my—oh—nee!" He was pulling and kicking and punching at the door when suddenly he turned on Harry. His eyes were bloodshot and wild and dull, and he grabbed Harry with both hands on his shoulders, his nails buried into the fabric of his corduroy jacket. "Give me the mirror, Harry! I know you have it! Give it to me!"

Harry had no idea what Ron was babbling on about. "Ron, what the—Ron, stop!" Ron had yanked the jacket off of Harry's arms forcefully and was now frantically searching the pockets in a frightening frenzy. "Ron!" Harry tried to stop him, but Ron was much larger than he was and easily pushed him back.

"Where is it?" Ron yelled when he discovered that the pockets were empty. He launched the jacket back at Harry. "What did you do with it?" Harry had never seen Ron this...this...disturbed before. When Ron slammed Harry against the wall and Harry pushed back against him, he realized then what Ron was looking for. He was searching for the broken piece of Sirius's mirror that Harry kept with him at all times. Obviously, Harry did not plan on giving it to him. In this crazed state, who knew what Ron was going to do with it.

"No, Ron—I'm not going to give it—"

"Give it to me!" Ron swung his hand back and tried to hit Harry, but he saw it coming and ducked. The second time, however, he was unprepared, and Ron punched Harry, knocking all of the wind out of him. While Harry was gasping for air, Dean Thomas was trying to stop Ron from hurting him further— "Ron, cut it out!" —and Ron was hitting him, too, until Dean had Ron in a somewhat stable headlock. Ron, like an angry bull seeing a matador, tried to throw him off— "Get. Off. Me!"

"Ron, what the bloody hell's wrong with you?" grunted Dean, struggling to keep a hold on his friend. "What d'you think you're doing—"

Ron finally managed to free himself from Dean's arms, and his eyes, full of desperation, focused on Harry. "You," he snarled. "Give me the mirror."

Harry ducked behind a pillar, trying to reason with him. The entire thing was covered in a thick layer of dust, and when Harry removed his hands from it, they were coated in it. "What are you going to do with it, Ron, hm? Dig your way out?"

"If that's what it takes," he growled, his movements similar to that of a bear or a giant rather than a wizard. So this was what it was all about. Ron had no way of rescuing Hermione, so he was becoming desperate, trying to find something to hack at the door with. Harry had the only sharp object other than the rusty old nail Luna had been using. He launched himself at Harry, but Harry found yet another pillar to hide behind. Harry felt the allusion to when they were camping; he found it slightly ironic that they'd been doing the same thing only a few weeks ago, but with trees in the Forest of Dean, and it had been for fun, like a Muggle game of football. Nothing... Nothing like this twisted version of Hide and Seek.

"Ron, that's absurd! Take some time to—"

Ron had finally met Harry, and was now holding him by the collar. His chest was heaving and his face was bright red, swollen from all of his crying. "Where is it?" He pulled his fist back, threatening Harry with another hit. "Give it to me!"

"Ron, don't—"

Ron did. He hit Harry again, this time square in the center of his face, and Harry's head snapped back. His stomach made him feel like he was falling, but Ron still had an entire fistful of shirt and his feet were an inch or two off of the ground. Hermione had yet to make any noise at all. Harry didn't even know if she was alive. Before Ron could hurt him again, Harry blurted out, "It's in my sock! In my sock! My—my right one!" He held up his hands in front of his face. The useless, lying mirror wasn't worth getting beat up over. The door remained shut, no matter what they tried, but Ron was not willing to accept that. Harry was not willing to die to stop him from trying.

Ron nearly ripped Harry's shoe off while reaching his sock. He yanked Sirius's mirror out of his sock and held it with shaking, angry hands. He gripped it with his right hand, the sharp edge cutting slightly into his palm and fingers. Before Ron could attack the door with it, however, something glinted at him that did not come from the dungeon. Something was in that mirror that was not a reflection.

"Ron!" Harry cried. This was their chance. The Dumbledore inside of the mirror could help them. He knew that Dumbledore was dead, but... Harry jumped at his best friend and managed to wrench the mirror from him, newfound energy coursing through him.

"Wha—" began the redhead.

Before Ron could attack him, Harry cried, "Stop! Look!"

In the mirror, there it was. A blue eye surrounded by pale, wrinkled skin. Dumbledore's face. "We're saved," gasped Harry.

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 _A/N: Thanks for reading! Please follow, favorite, and review!_

 _Challenges used:_

 _Fanfiction Writing Month: December [1506]_


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